


You and Me Against the World

by Avirra



Series: Crossover : A-Team / Man from U.N.C.L.E. [3]
Category: The A-Team (TV), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: 1973, Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avirra/pseuds/Avirra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The A-Team has a mission that Murdock can't come along on. When Illya offers Murdock a place to stay, what could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Division

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place approximately 15 months following the events of 'One Thing Leads to Another'.

**September 1973**

There was no doubt about it - B.A. was feeling guilty about feeling good. He was feeling good because the team had a mission and, even though the distance was considerable, they were going to drive the distance instead of fly.

Why they weren't flying was also why B.A. was feeling guilty. During their last job, B.A. had thrown one of their opponents to get him away from the trigger of a bomb. Unfortunately, Murdock was retreating from being double-teamed and unknowingly backed right into the path of the man B.A. had thrown. While the A-Team eventually came out on top, by the time they had, Murdock's right foot was badly swollen and the Captain couldn't put any weight on it.

As feared, there was a broken bone in his foot - nothing that wouldn't heal, but it wouldn't heal in time for him to accompany them on their newest mission. The usual option of dropping him back at the VA was out due to Decker having the area around it under tight guard.

While the other three were debating other possibilities, Murdock reached into one of the pockets of his faithful old bomber jacket. His hand came back out with a small piece of white pasteboard. Reaching over to the telephone that was fortunately near the chair he was sitting in, Murdock put in a call to a New York number written on the card. He'd been given after the incident with Hurricane Hannah about a year ago, but never used before. It was picked up after only two rings. The accented voice of the U.N.C.L.E. agent was a welcome sound.

"Hello?"

"Illya? Hi - this is Murdock. Could . . . I mean, can . . . uhm . . .?"

Illya gently broke in.

"Do you or your team need assistance, Listovka?"

The nickname brought a smile to Murdock's face and settled his mind down.

"Oh, the team's fine, but we've got a job and I can't go with them. I've got a broke foot and I'd only slow them down."

"My apartment is far from fancy, but you would be more than welcome to share it until the others return, my friend. Are you in town?"

The relief in Murdock's voice could be heard over the line as he answered.

"Not at the moment, but the guys could detour through pretty easily without going too far out of their way."

"Good. Then speak to the team and call me again. I will arrange to meet you. Oh and I should warn you - I have cats."

"I like cats. Besides, with this bum foot of mine, one thing I don't have a problem providing is a lap."

"I will be awaiting your call."

"Okay. And Illya? Spacibo."

"Pozhaluysta, Murdock. Go. Talk to your team."

As the call disconnected, Illya looked around his sparsely furnished apartment. Drawing a deep breath, he decided that desperate times called for desperate measures and dialed a number.

"Hello, April? You remember what you said about my new apartment? You were right. Would you assist me in furnishing it?"

From the squeal on the other end of the line, Illya assumed April was willing. Sighing as he considered the types of shops April frequented, he mentally said good-bye to a decent portion of his savings. Perhaps now would be a good time to ask Napoleon for the payback of some of his past loans?

* * *

For his part, Murdock eased himself out of the chair and made use of his crutches to head into the room where the guys were still discussing him like he couldn't hear them.

"Fellows, you can stop now. All you got to do is swing by New York City and drop me off. Illya's offered me a place to stay while you guys are gone."

All three looked uncomfortable, but it was Face that came over to him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. He knows about my bum foot and he's okay with that. I just need to give him a call back with details for when I can get there. Illya said he'd meet me."

After another moment of silence, Murdock's normally upbeat tone turned uncharacteristically sullen.

"It's not like you guys weren't figuring out where to dump me off. What's wrong with me picking where **I** want to go for once?"

If the three had looked uneasy before, it was nothing compared to how uncomfortable they looked now. Seeing that, Murdock sighed.

"Guys - I **know** I can't go with you. I **know** I can't stay on my own since I'm still limping around. I **know** Decker is on the warpath. But, Decker doesn't know Illya and I sincerely doubt he has an in with U.N.C.L.E. that would give him access to anything on those folks. Come on, Face - don't tell me that you don't trust Illya. The man didn't know you - didn't know us - and he still tried to protect you."

Face shook his head.

"He didn't try to protect me. He did protect me and took some nasty damage doing it. It's not you talking about Illya that has me like this. It's that you think we dump you off."

Moving over to his bestest best friend, Murdock grabbed the back of Face's neck and pulled him until their foreheads met.

"You know I love you like a brother, Faceman, but let's be honest. You guys **do** dump me off a lot. I don't complain about it much because, hell - I know how I am. Sometimes I have problems keeping up with me and it can be exhausting. But these folks know me too. April Showers and Higgins - they've known me for years. If I can't heal up surrounded by my family, at least let me heal up surrounded by my friends."

Both Hannibal and B.A. moved closer at that, Hannibal draping an arm over Murdock's shoulder after the pilot straightened back up.

"Family, Murdock?"

Murdock's expression shifted to one that verged on the melodramatic as he did his best impersonation of Richard Burton.

" _We few - we happy few - we band of brothers_."

"Shakespeare, Captain?"

Murdock shrugged and gave a grin more like his usual self.

"What can I say, Colonel? The man had a way with words."

For a moment, all three were in contact with Murdock - hands briefly resting on his shoulders and back. Then Hannibal looked to B.A.

"How long will it take us to get to New York?"


	2. Reunions and Partings

There was a distinct lack of chatter in the van as the team drove to the pre-arranged meeting place where Illya was waiting. Normally, B.A. would have enjoyed the quiet drive, but he knew that when Murdock was that quiet, it was because he was hurting and trying not to let it show. The guilt was back in full force and, despite themselves, Face and Hannibal couldn't help being amused by the number of times B.A. asked Murdock if he needed anything.

Face was still a bit concerned about Murdock's outburst, but decided not to bring up the subject again until they returned from the mission. For one thing, he wanted to have a long talk with B.A. and Hannibal about Murdock when his friend wouldn't overhear it. The long upcoming road trip the three of them were about to take would be a good opportunity.

There was a larger reception committee waiting on them than expected. Not only Illya, but Napoleon, April, and Mark were all present to greet them. Hannibal felt a little better about the situation when he saw that the U.N.C.L.E. group were genuinely happy to see Murdock, though in another way he felt worse. How much scrutiny had he given to the others that they'd left Murdock with in the past year? He made a mental note to pay more attention in the future as he shook hands with Mark.

Mark seemed to see some of what was going on in Hannibal's head. After the handshake, he gave Hannibal a pat on the shoulder.

"Not to worry. HM's been one of us for years. He'll be fine."

The goodbyes were quicker than Face liked, but the team had a deadline and a long way to go to get to their destination. The drive fell into silence again until about an hour later. B.A. glanced into the rearview mirror and took in Face's expression.

"You're gettin' all worked up over nothin', Face. Murdock will enjoy his time with those folks, but he'll be ready to come back with us after we return."

Face didn't look up as he questioned B.A.'s statement.

"You sure about that?"

"Sure I'm sure. Murdock said it himself. Those folks are friends. We're family."

* * *

Back with the others, April and the rest were consoling Murdock, whose smile only lasted until the van was out of sight.

"They'll be back before you know it, Howler."

"If they aren't back before my foot heals, I'm going looking for them."

The three agents looked to Napoleon, who nodded.

"If they aren't back by then, we'll help you look."

Napoleon was still a lesser known factor to Murdock and the pilot considered that statement somberly for a minute before speaking.

"Pinky swear?"

It was a struggle, but Napoleon kept a perfectly straight face as he nodded.

"With both pinkies, if you like."

Like a rubber band snapping back into shape, Murdock grinned and went back to filling them in on the events since they had last met. Napoleon caught Mark's eye and Mark simply shrugged. He'd never known Murdock to be able to stay either angry or sad for extended periods.

"You know one thing I need to do while I'm in the area? I need to go to Ellis Island. I have never, ever visited the Statue of Liberty."

April took his arm.

"Strangely enough, I've never done that either, Howler. How about you gents?"

Illya started laughing when he realized that he was the only one among them that had ever been to the Statue of Liberty. Mark, being British, wasn't embarrassed, but the same could not be said of Napoleon and April, who both flushed a bit. Murdock gave both of them a light nudge.

"That lovely lady means more to folks that came here instead of being born here, I think. Maybe we can make a day of it and visit it together?"

"I think that's a fine idea, HM. I've always meant to see it, but simply haven't made the time yet."

Napoleon winced, drawing Illya's attention.

"Is something wrong, Napoleon?"

"That remark about making time reminded me - Aunt Amy wanted me to escort her to the opera this weekend."

Murdock perked up, but remained silent as Napoleon continued.

"Which is usually a pleasure, of course, but I forgot that I have a date with Miss Campbell."

Unable to contain himself any longer, Murdock bounced a bit.

"Which opera?"

"Tosca."

To the surprise of all, Murdock immediately launched into "E lucevan le stele", singing with the aria with feeling before ending with a smile.

"Puccini wrote some catchy tunes, didn't he?"

Napoleon chuckled.

"I suppose I don't have to ask if you're an opera fan."

Illya had a thoughtful expression, then smiled.

"Napoleon, perhaps Murdock and I could take your aunt to the opera. It would hardly be the first time I have gone with her."

Seeing the hesitation in Napoleon's expression, Murdock spoke up again.

"I know I'm nuts, Napoleon, but I try to be an officer and a gentleman where ladies are concerned. Maybe you could introduce us over a lunch or something? If we don't hit it off, I could stay home and watch TV while Illya escorts her."

Smiling, Napoleon nodded.

"I'll give Aunt Amy a call. I'm sure she'd love to meet you. For now though? I saw that wince. Why don't we head to Illya' place and drop your things off before getting something to eat? I'm assuming you have some sort of pain medicine that's best to take after eating?"

"Yeah, I've got a prescription with me but . . . well, I feel like I ought to warn you guys. Decker's been more nuts than usual lately. I don't see how he could figure out I'm around here, but I'd rather let you know instead of him becoming a surprise."

Mark began leading the way to the car, tapping a knuckle against his chin as he thought.

"Decker . . . Decker . . . why does that name sound so familiar?"

Laughter suddenly came from April.

"I remember! He's that officer you told us about that Hannibal punched in the officers' club, isn't he?"

"That's the guy, twin. Best we can figure, he's not actually assigned to find the guys - that's Colonel Lynch - but Decker's got a grudge and isn't shy about sticking his nose into things."

Unlocking the car, Napoleon then moved to open the trunk to toss on Murdock's duffle.

"Dare I ask why Hannibal punched this Decker fellow?"

Dropping his duffle into the trunk, Murdock shrugged.

"He deserved it - and worse, Napoleon. You were a solider - you know the standards of warfare that are supposed to be followed. Well, Decker thinks moral standards are for wimps. He deliberately targeted hospitals."

Napoleon's expression became tight.

"Too much to hope Hannibal broke his jaw?"

"Afraid so. Wasn't for lack of trying though."

"I knew I liked that man. Come on - everyone into the car."

Illya moved to hold the car door open and helped Murdock with his crutches. He felt Murdock grasp his arm and, for a moment, thought Murdock had lost his balance. But then their eyes met and he heard the softly spoken, but earnest.

"Thanks for letting me come here, Illya. It means a lot to me."

Illya gave Murdock's arm a light squeeze before helping him get settled in his seat.

"Shennelle shed both of our blood - made us comrades of sorts, yes?"

"Guess it did at that."

For a moment, Illya thought Murdock was about to say more, but April climbed in next to him and, whatever he might have meant to say, went unsaid. Illya moved to take his own seat as Napoleon got behind the wheel. Then a mischievous smile formed.

"You know, April, if Murdock is going to make a good impression on Aunt Amy, you and Mark will have to take him shopping. While I appreciate your unique style, you will need something a bit more formal for the opera."

Murdock gave a sigh that was obviously for show, then batted his eyes at April.

"All I ask is that you be gentle."

It would have been difficult to tell at that point which of the agents was laughing the loudest.


	3. Settling In

When the group arrived at Illya's apartment, Illya led the way so that he could unlock the door and turn off the security system. Napoleon and April flanked Murdock while Mark brought up the rear, carrying Murdock's duffle despite the pilot's complaint that he could carry it himself.

Entering the bright and cheerful apartment, the first thing Murdock noticed was the biggest cat tree he'd ever seen. Only one cat was in sight - a lovely Siamese whose blue eyes were studying the quartet entering her domain, tail flicking rhythmically as she remained lounging on her perch.

Illya saw where Murdock's gaze was directed and made the introduction.

"Murdock, that is Lawan. Lawan, this is our guest. Be nice to him, moya krasivaya devushka."

After the introduction, Murdock gave Lawan a slight bow before looking around.

"I thought you said you have two cats?"

Moving to open the door of what was now the guest bedroom, Illya nodded.

"Da - Wellington is likely hiding. He tends to make himself scarce when Napoleon comes in."

Napoleon muttered under his breath.

"More accurately, he's found a place to set an ambush and he's waiting for me to let my guard down."

Chuckling, Murdock carefully maneuvered around the furniture, making sure not to bump into anything with his crutches. April gave the crutches a thoughtful look.

"You really don't appear to be putting a lot of weight on those crutches, Howler. You might get around better using a cane."

"You could be right, Chiquita, but crutches were what was available at the time and you know what they say about beggars and choosers."

"I've got a cane from the last time I sprained my ankle. I'll run upstairs and grab it for you."

"Thanks, Napoleon. I'd . . ."

Murdock stopped speaking as he entered the guest bedroom, staring at everything with an open mouth for a minute before turning toward Illya.

"This is new, isn't it? Everything in here is new. You didn't go to all this fuss for me, did you?"

Illya shrugged.

"I had been putting off furnishing this apartment since I moved in. April had been after me to do it, so it is more of a case that your call gave me a reason to quit procrastinating. Though I will admit that the bedspread with the helicopters on it was bought with you in mind."

A little overwhelmed, Murdock slowly eased into the room, looking over everything. He stopped when he spotted a small wrapped package on top of the chest. April moved behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"That's from me, Howler love. Go on - open it."

Grinning like a kid, Murdock grabbed the package before moving to sit on the bed. Ripping off the paper enthusiastically, he pulled the top off of the box and grabbed up the t-shirt resting inside, beaming.

"It's just like the Morrison shirt that Hannah ruined."

"I did promise to replace it for you, Howler. It took me awhile to find the right one."

"You are the bestest twin ever!"

Then Murdock ran a hand across the bedspread. Seeing his expression shift, Illya sat on the end of the bed.

"We did not do this because we had to, Listovka. We did this because we wanted to."

Murdock grinned again, hugging his new t-shirt to him.

"So - I never asked, but why do you call me Listovka?"

April frowned, calling on her very limited Russian.

"Well . . . it makes sense, doesn't it? Listovka means flyer. Doesn't it?"

The last question came after both Murdock and Illya started smiling.

"Yes and no, Chiquita. Flyer as in a one page broadsheet rather than an up, up and away type flyer. I took it as a pun?"

"You were right. I will admit that when April first described you to us and called you a flyer rather than a pilot, the other meaning for flyer was the first one that came to my mind. Does it bother you?"

"Naw. I would have said something if it did. Besides, it's kind of catchy and unique."

They heard the door open followed almost immediately by Napoleon yelling.

"Hey! Cut that out!"

Illya shook his head.

"It sounds as if Napoleon has returned and Wellington has ambushed him."

Entering the bedroom, Napoleon was pulling the cane - which had the midnight black cat attached to the end of it.

"You never told me that Wellington has a thing about canes."

"That is because I did not know."

When Murdock laughed, the new voice made Wellington release his death grip on the end of the cane. Studying the newcomer, he lightly jumped onto the bed next to Illya.

"No hissing - that's better than I get. He's never forgiven me for accidentally stepping on his tail when he was a kitten. Oh, and I called Aunt Amy. We won't be meeting her for lunch tomorrow. She's invited all five of us to come over to her place for dinner tonight."

Murdock's mouth dropped open again, but April gave his arm a pat.

"You need to stay off that foot for a bit, darling. Maybe even take a short nap - don't think I didn't see you wince when you bumped your foot getting out of the car. You trust me, don't you?"

"How could I not trust a woman who bought me a Jim Morrison t-shirt?"

"Exactly. I'll jot down your sizes and bring you back something suitable to wear to meet Napoleon's aunt in plenty of time for you to get cleaned up and ready."

Running his hand on the bedspread again, Murdock nodded.

"I admit that it's time for a pain pill and those things do tend to make me sleepy. Mark? Would you mind digging my prescription out of the duffle?"

"Not at all, HM. I'll fetch you a glass of water as well."

April had already pulled a notepad from her purse and was quizzing Murdock on everything from hat size to shoe size. She was tucking the pad back into her purse when Mark returned with the water and pill bottle. Mark and Illya gave Murdock a hand getting settled in the bed, carrying a protesting Wellington out with them as they left the room.

"I'll wake you about an hour before we need to leave. Spokoynoy nochi, Listovka."

"Ya poprobuyu, Illya."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spokoynoy nochi - Sleep well.
> 
> Ya poprobuyu - I'll try.


	4. Aunt Amy

Murdock had been expecting to toss and turn as he usually did when trying to sleep when the team wasn't nearby, but when Illya came in to wake him, he was surprised that he'd rested well. Thinking back, he also recalled he'd slept peacefully when sharing a hotel room with Napoleon. He pondered about that while yodeling in the shower.

Drying off, he found the April had brought him a very nice charcoal grey suit with white dress shirt and a snazzy striped tie. He approved of it as well as the fedora that was sitting on the chest. All together, it had a very Sinatra-ish style. Everything fit well enough, but it made Murdock think, as he occasionally did, of getting a custom-made suit one day. Bespoke? He thought that was the term, but it was kind of an odd word. He'd have to ask Napoleon. He was willing to bet Napoleon's suits were mostly made to order.

Both Napoleon and Illya approved of his appearance as they waited for April and Mark to join them. When they finally arrived, Mark said that April had tried on and rejected almost everything in her wardrobe before finally being satisfied that she had something stylish enough, yet modest enough, for dining with Amy Solo. Murdock gave her a one armed hug.

"You've got a wonderful sense of style, Chiquita - you worry too much."

when the group arrived at Aunt Amy's apartment and introductions were made, things went very much as April had expected they would. Aunt Amy was enchanted with Murdock and the two of them were soon having an animated discussion comparing and critiquing their favorite arias - with Murdock occasionally singing one of them to emphasize a point.

They paused their discussion to eat, then about halfway through the meal, Aunt Amy turned to Napoleon.

"Napoleon, dear? I know you were looking forward to coming to the opera with me, but would you mind terribly if Mister Murdock used your ticket instead? I'll make it up to you later. I so rarely encounter someone as enthusiastic over Puccini as I am."

It was difficult, but Illya managed to hide his amusement at the look crossing Napoleon's face. Even though Napoleon had been trying to get out of the engagement, he looked a touch . . . jealous? that Aunt Amy might prefer an escort other than himself. A slight throat clearing from April reminded Napoleon of his date and he shook of the other feelings.

"I wouldn't want to deprive a Puccini fan of the experience, Aunt Amy. And I insist that the two of you make use of the reservations I made at the Rainbow Room for after the opera."

There was a slight look of panic from Murdock which Aunt Amy thankfully didn't notice. He settled when April gave him an encouraging smile. Illya, fully understanding Murdock's panic at the thought of paying for a dinner there, trusted that Napoleon was going to take care of the bill himself since he suggested it.

When the conversation resumed, it turned out that Aunt Amy and Murdock had other things in common - including a love of languages, with Illya noting that wherever Napoleon got his horrendous French accent from, it wasn't from his aunt. Aunt Amy ventured that Napoleon probably learned his accent from his dear uncle, who had many fine qualities, but an ear for dialects was not among them.

Later, April and Mark both admitted that they got quite the translation work out trying to keep up with Aunt Amy and Murdock as they switched freely and easily between French, German, and Italian, depending on which composer they were discussing at the time.

Murdock had another moment of panic after Aunt Amy's discovery that Murdock had never really visited New York beyond just passing through. She began extoling the many virtues and pleasures of her home city, offering to act as sort of a tour guide. Finally, he bit the bullet and spoke.

"Miss Amy, while nothing would give pleasure than a tour with your company, I'm afraid this cane isn't just for looks. I've got a broken foot that 's still mending and I have to stay off of it for the most part."

Not in the slightest dissuaded, Aunt Amy simply changed the tour to a driving one.

"I have a perfectly good car with enough room in the back for you to stretch out your leg properly and a young man that drives it for me. Please do say you'll come. I do so love an outing during the day, but I rarely go on them any more. So many of my dear friends that I used to spend my days with have passed on now."

"Well, Miss Amy, my grandmother raised me and she always said that it was close to a sin for a man to disappoint a lady. I'd be pleased to go driving with you on whatever day you'd like."

Aunt Amy was so pleased, she literally clapped her hands together.

"Excellent. I will contact David tomorrow and have him make sure the car is ready."

The rest of the evening consisted of casual conversation as they nibbled from a tray with a variety of small sweets while drinking coffee or tea. When they said their goodbyes and left, Murdock was very aware of Napoleon's mood.

"Napoleon? I know things moved kind of quick, but if you'd prefer I didn't go with your aunt, just say so. I mean, I've got this bum foot, so I can put the blame on it to keep from hurting her feelings."

Slightly startled by the offer, Napoleon shook his head.

"Oh no - sorry. My mood hasn't got anything to do with you. I was thinking over what Aunt Amy said. I'm embarrassed to say that I had no idea that she was feeling lonely. She's always been so outgoing and surrounded by friends, it never occurred to me that might have changed over the years. If your foot really is bothering you, she'd understand, but if you feel up to it, I would appreciate you taking her up on her offer."

"I'd love to. I mean, no offense against the guys, but I really can't talk opera with them. Well, I can, but B.A. threatens to toss me out of the van when I do."

Mark chuckled.

"There's a large difference between talking about opera and being able to have a discussion on its merits, HM."

Grinning, Murdock bounced a little in his seat.

"Exactly, Higgins! B.A.'s only opinions on operas are too long and too loud."

At a nudge from Illya, Napoleon broke back in.

"Oh, and don't worry about the Rainbow Room. When I inform them of the change in reservations, I'll make sure they know to put everything on my account."

Leaning back in the seat, Murdock closed his eyes.

"I've always heard about the Rainbow Room. It will be neat to actually see it. Not that it has anything to do with that, but do you anything about bespoke suits, Napoleon? I think bespoke is the right word."

"Yes, that's the correct term. And yes, I have several. I take you you're curious about them?"

"very, but I won't spring all the questions on you at one time. Promise."

After a bit of silence, Illya decided to broach a delicate subject.

"Murdock? Did the team leave you any funds?"

Fiddling with his fedora, Murdock shrugged.

"Not really. I mean, I have a few dollars on me, but not much. Face or Hannibal normally take care of stuff."

April frowned thoughtfully, but remained silent about her plans as they arrived back at the building where Napoleon and Illya lived. In the morning, she was going to pull a couple of old files and then request a chat with Mister Waverly.


	5. Belated Restitution and Shopping

When the work day began, Napoleon glanced across his desk to his partner, who was filling out paperwork. Illya had already said that Murdock was at the apartment, fully immersed in Illya's collection of Russian books. His attention was diverted by Mister Waverly's voice over the intercom requesting that Mark come to his office immediately - well, of course Mister Waverly said Mister Slate. The Old Man was rarely casual in the use of any agent's name, even in private.

Since Napoleon was well aware that April had requested a meeting with Mister Waverly, his curiosity was aroused. From Illya's glance as Mark walked past their door, he knew Illya was equally intrigued by this small mystery. It was a little over an hour before they had a chance to find out what was going on.

April and Mark were headed back to their office, obviously in a good mood from the tone of their voices. When they were close enough, Napoleon called them into his and Illya's office. Neither of them had to ask, April started talking the minute the door was shut as she handed Illya a check.

"Illya darling, would you be so kind as to cash this for Howler? Mister Waverly had Accounting make it out in your name because he said he doubts Howler has a bank account and I'm sure he's probably right about that since Howler wouldn't want to give Lynch or Decker another way to track him."

Automatically taking the offered check, Illya glanced at the amount, blinked, then looked again.

"This . . . is a considerable sum."

Mark made a disgusted noise.

"Not enough, mind you, but better than what he'd gotten before this. Do you know that he wasn't compensated with so much as a cup of coffee either time the CIA loaned him to U.N.C.L.E.? And when Mister Waverly looked into it, the CIA never paid him as one of their operatives either even though their missions had nothing to do with the military."

"You found out because of something Murdock said in passing and that's why you wanted to speak with Mister Waverly this morning."

"Right on the nose, Napoleon. Mister Waverly was quite indignant over the matter. He didn't like the thought of someone being put at risk like that who wasn't an agent - not ours or the CIA's either."

Illya carefully tucked the check away in his wallet.

"I will take care of this at lunch. I am sure Murdock will feel more at ease having access to more than what he referred to as his snack money, but he is a proud man. How will you explain this windfall to him, April?"

"I'm sure I can come up with something by tonight, darling. Why don't Mark and I bring Chinese over? I'll make sure we have plenty of eggrolls."

Napoleon gave up on the report he'd been trying to read.

"Am I to assume that Murdock is as fond of eggrolls as Illya is?"

Mark made a weighing gesture with his hands.

"At least. Possibly more. Are HM and your aunt going sightseeing tomorrow?"

"They are. I believe Aunt Amy and her driver will be picking Murdock up tomorrow morning from our apartment building. Then the day after that, they're going to the opera. Speaking of which, are you going to get the appropriate clothes for him, April?"

"Already arranged. A few minor alterations will need to be done, but I've been assured that if I take Howler by this afternoon, everything will be ready by tomorrow evening."

Napoleon gave a glance to the clock.

"I know Illya's caught up on his reports. How about you, April?"

Pausing to consider, she tugged on an errant curl.

"I need to sign off on a couple of things and then get my finished reports into the outgoing mail."

"Excellent. Go ahead and get things finished, then you and Illya can take Murdock for his fitting and take care of the banking at the same time. Why not go ahead and arrange tonight's food while you're out as well? Mark and I will handle things here and then meet you after work for dinner."

They all agreed to the plan before splitting back up. Since he needed to wait for April, Illya took one set of Napoleon's notes that needed to be typed up and began working on it.

* * *

Murdock's attention was fully engrossed in reading _Priglasheniye na kazn'_ by Vladimir Nabokov when he was distracted by a noise at the door. Not expecting anyone for several hours, Murdock carefully marked his place before reaching for a weapon. He relaxed again as the door opened and Illya's voice rang out.

"Ne volnuytes', eto tol'ko u nas."

As he moved through the door, Illya gave him an apologetic look.

"I am sorry. I should have thought to call first."

Laughing at that, Murdock shook his head.

"Hey, this is your apartment, muchacho - come and go as you please."

"Right now, we are going. Come. You, I, and April will get some lunch, then April says you need to get your tuxedo fitted for the opera with Aunt Amy. Then we will all return with here for Chinese take-out."

Grabbing his cap, Murdock put it on and followed Illya out.

"Can we get extra eggrolls and fortune cookies?"

"Of course. Do you think we are heathens?"

After a stop at a small Greek restaurant for gyros, the next stop was the bank. While Illya was handling cashing the check, April explained the funds to Murdock as being a long-overdue payment for the work he'd done for U.N.C.L.E.. To their surprise, he didn't argue, but he did ask that Illya hold onto the majority of the funds for him.

"It's one of the reasons Face or Hannibal always handle the money. I'm kind of impulsive. If I have money, I might buy ice cream for all the kids in a park or something like that. Not that there's anything wrong with ice cream, but when me and the team are between jobs, well - the van needs gas and we gotta eat ourselves, so me spending isn't always a good idea when we might need that money later. Which is why I'd like you to hang on to most of it. Me not needing it today doesn't mean I might not need it tomorrow."

Knowing that calling Murdock impulsive was an understatement, Illya agreed to his request and they were soon on their way to the tailor to have Murdock fitted for alterations. Since April had already given them Murdock's measurements, this was more a case of insuring the fit. As it turned out, very few adjustment were needed and they were told it would be no more than a couple of hours before the tuxedo would be ready to be picked up. Napoleon had covered the cost of the garment already.

April pulled her list from her purse and checked off the fitting appointment.

"I suppose all we need to do now is figure out what we all want to order from the restaurant. Howler talking about ice cream has my sweet tooth craving a cone, so let's grab a take out menu and pick out a good variety while we eat ice cream. Then we can place our order and window shop while they get it ready and, afterwards, we can swing back by here after we get the food and pick up your tux, Howler."

Murdock laughed.

"Twin, you plan out shopping better than Hannibal plans out a mission. Ice cream does sound pretty good to me - how about you, Illya?"

"Have either of you ever known me to turn down food? Come - there is a very good spot nearby."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in amiable conversation with topics ranging from why statues were pigeon magnets to why King Kong would have been better off avoiding the Empire State Building (Murdock's suggestion that the Statue of Liberty would have been a better woman for him to fixate on than Fay Wray was hard to find an argument against). By the time they headed back to the apartment with their arms loaded with Chinese takeout, April's sides were sore. She hadn't laughed so hard for so long in years.


	6. Sightseeing

Napoleon was still a little uneasy about his aunt and Murdock spending the day alone. April swatted him gently.

"You've seen how protective Howler is with me? Trust me - he'll likely be twice as protective of Aunt Amy. Besides, her driver will be taking them around, so you don't even have to worry about him driving her."

Sighing, Napoleon nodded.

"I guess I'm a worrywart where she's concerned, but she's the only real family I have left."

Leaning over, April kissed his temple.

"You're allowed to be a worrywart, love. I was simply trying to assure you that, in this case, you really needn't worry as much."

* * *

Murdock dressed casually as dressed up and playing tourist didn't match in his head. He was pleased to see that Miss Amy was dressed fairly casually as well - though her idea of casual would certainly not have been out of place at a nice garden party. David proved to be an amiable type as well and ferried them smoothly to wherever the next whim directed them.

For her part, Aunt Amy was having a marvelous time. Murdock was very prompt at being present to open every door and to offer his arm to her when they were walking. His knowledge of opera was quite impressive and, unlike many she could name, his knowledge came from a genuine love of the art rather than having been memorized to impress others. Murdock even told opera based jokes that had her laughing until she was nearly breathless, admitting that he rarely got a chance to tell those stories since most people wouldn't get the punch line.

"The men I work with - they're a great bunch of fellows, but not a one of them is an opera fan. Me? I like all kinds of music. There might be individual artists I don't care for as much, but there's normally someone from every genre that I like."

The majority of the day was spent strolling through museums, viewing the various exhibits. A call mid-afternoon to Napoleon made arrangements for them all to meet at Ercole's - their favorite Italian restaurant - with Napoleon agreeing to make the reservations after checking with April and Mark. Illya was in a meeting in the labs, but since his partner didn't willingly pass up dinner invitations, Napoleon informed him of the reservations after the fact.

On finding out that Murdock was a helicopter pilot (among other things), Aunt Amy confessed that she had always wanted to see the city from above better than could be seen from the tiny windows on airplanes. That brought about a second call, this one from Murdock to April since he knew she had gotten access to a helicopter in the past. Of course, he wasn't sure that she would be able to do it again as the first one hadn't been returned in good condition.

He didn't need to worry - between April and Mark, they were able to arrange for one, much to Aunt Amy's excitement. By the time they were driven to where the helicopter was waiting, it was ready. It only took a few minutes to register a flight plan and have it approved. There were restrictions over certain areas, but nothing that interfered with sightseeing - at least from a distance.

After getting used to the unique movement, Aunt Amy saw how comfortable Murdock was behind the controls and didn't worry a bit about the flight as she constantly looked from one side to the other. Murdock grinned at her enthusiasm. She was wearing a headset like he was so they could speak without yelling over the noise of the engine.

"Things look different from up here, don't they? Personally, the view from above is my favorite, Miss Amy."

"I can see why. How long have you been a pilot, Mister Murdock?"

"Since I could reach pedals, I guess. I started out as a teenager flying crop dusters in Texas before I joined up with Uncle Sam."

They chatted about the various sites below and Murdock found the Aunt Amy was nearly as good at random trivia as he was. She made him laugh as much as he made her which made the time fly before they needed to land and get ready to join the others for dinner.

* * *

The others were already at the table when Murdock and Aunt Amy arrived, still laughing together as they approached the table. Murdock held out the chair at Napoleon's side for Aunt Amy to sit in before circling the table and seating himself.

With his aunt smiling and her eyes sparkling, Napoleon thought it was a little redundant, but asked any way.

"So, Aunt Amy - did you enjoy yourself today?"

"Oh my, yes. I will confess that were I a bit younger, you might have to worry about a new uncle."

Murdock blushed at that.

"I'm the one that would need to be younger to keep up with you, Miss Amy."

This was another turn that Napoleon wasn't quite sure how to take. It startled him a bit to realize he was a little bit jealous, then he mentally scolded himself when it was obvious that his beloved aunt had enjoyed herself. She was full of bubbling conversation about the exhibits they saw and the panoramic view of the city she had enjoyed from the helicopter.

Napoleon had to excuse himself once to take a call from Headquarters and Illya tagged along, waiting until the call had ended to speak.

"You will always be her favorite nephew, my friend. You do not need to fear being replaced in her affections."

Napoleon sighed as he tucked his pen away.

"Was it that obvious?"

"Only to those who know you well. The only reason Aunt Amy did not notice is her attention was elsewhere and you had composed your features by the time she looked at you again."

"Thank goodness for that. I don't want to give her the impression that I don't want her to have a good time without me having to be there."

"Perhaps you did not expect that they would get along so well, but at least you know they will enjoy the opera together tomorrow night. That will allow you to enjoy your own date without guilt, yes?"

"I suppose so. Come on, tovarich - let's get back to the table before they miss us."

"Or worse, after the dessert cart comes."

That got Napoleon laughing again and his spirit was much lighter when they rejoined the others.


	7. A Night at the Opera

Arrangements had already been made for Aunt Amy's driver to pick up Murdock before picking her up since she lived closest to the theatre. Murdock was standing outside the apartment building in his tuxedo, unaware of the small group watching nearby.

"Are you sure that's Kuryakin? Granted, the picture they gave us is grainy, but that does not look like him to me."

"Don't forget that we were told that Kuryakin often disguises himself. Still, it would be wise to double check. Alyona, time to put your Russian to practice."

The brunette T.H.R.U.S.H. agent smiled, then adjust the scarf covering her hair before stepping out of the shadowed area and heading toward Murdock.

"Prostite , ne mogli by vy dat' mne napravleniye?" (Pardon me, could you give me directions?)

Turning to smile at the young woman, Murdock shifted languages without a second thought.

"Ya byl by rad pomoch'. Gde vy pytayetes' idti?" (I'd be pleased to help. Where are you trying to go?)

She named a store that was on the next block that he'd been to, so Murdock gave her the directions easily. She thanked him and said goodbye, heading in the direction he'd given her as the car drove up and Murdock climbed inside. Once the car was gone, Alyona hurried back over to the two men.

"That was Kuryakin."

"You are positive?"

She rolled her eyes.

"How many Russians do you think live in that building? Yes, I am positive."

"Excellent. He has seen you, so you will take our report back to the satrap. Dmitri and I will wait for Kuryakin to return and take him."

Rubbing his hands together as Alyona left, Dmitri smiled.

"Once we have Kuryakin, we will be that much closer to getting our hands on Solo and Waverly. Then U.N.C.L.E. will fall."

Janos gave Dmitri a dubious glance.

"U.N.C.L.E. is far more than two men."

Waving off that concern, Dmitri settled down to wait.

"From what I was told, Alexander Waverly is very much the soul of U.N.C.L.E. Now that he is old, Solo is his hands and feet as well as his successor. Perhaps you are right that U.N.C.L.E. will not fall overnight after they are gone, but the foundation will be far weaker and more prone to collapse."

* * *

At the New York Headquarters of U.N.C.L.E., Napoleon groaned as he ended up having to cancel his anticipated date with Miss Campbell when a situation arose needing their immediate attention. Napoleon left word at Aunt Amy's apartment building that he and Illya had been called out on to an emergency business meeting and wouldn't be back until at least the first of the week.

Murdock already had the spare key to Illya's apartment and had been taught the security codes, so, at Illya's request, Mark said he would drop by in the morning to let Murdock know what was happening and then stay over until they returned. That arranged, the partners double checked their gear and were headed to the airport within an hour of Mister Waverly's orders. The situation was urgent enough that he even authorized them to purchase the necessary wardrobe items on their arrival rather than take the time to run by their homes to pack.

* * *

Fully unaware of everything else going on, Murdock sat enthralled as Maralin Niska sang "Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore". Aunt Amy smiled at his obvious enjoyment then closed her eyes and listened to the soprano's clear tones. They both joined the standing ovation at the aria's conclusion before settling back down for the rest of the second act. When the intermission came before the third act, they both got up to stretch their legs as Murdock spoke about the performance.

"Man, I love her voice. Have you heard her sing Madam Butterfly? That was what I first heard her sing. It was about three years back, I guess. In Kentucky. Fell in love with her voice the first time I heard it. Sorry - I'm babbling, Miss Amy."

Laughing softly, she patted his arm.

"Nothing at all to be sorry about. I'm enjoying listening to you talk about her. I always wished I had a voice like that. Unfortunately, I was born with a voice more suited for calling the pigs in to eat than for a soaring aria. You, on the other hand, have a lovely voice."

Murdock gave a small shrug.

"That's kind of you to say, Miss Amy, but my voice hasn't got the power to belt past the footlights like those folks do. I guess I'm not built sturdy enough for belting out songs like that."

"A large voice does seem to have an appropriately sized body to match, doesn't it?"

"They need the chest room for all that lung expansion, I guess."

Smiling at Aunt Amy's tittering laugh, Murdock fetched her a cup of water before it was time to retake their seats. Even knowing that this opera, like most, had a bloody rather than a happy ending, he was still looking forward to it.

* * *

Still waiting near the apartment building, Dmitri consulted his watch.

"Are you sure he will return?"

"Do not be so impatient. He was dressed for a night on the town, so of course he will be late. Take a nap while I keep watch. Remember, the later he is, the more tired he will be and the easier to catch off-guard."

"You are right, Janos. And I think I will take that nap. Wake me in an hour, then you can take a nap yourself."

* * *

After a lengthy standing ovation after the finale of Tosca, including two curtain calls, David drove them to the Rainbow Room for a late supper. The look and feel of the place, the view, the revolving dance floor - it was everything Murdock had imagined. When Aunt Amy wanted to dance after they enjoyed their canapés, he was grateful that his Grandma Emma had insisted he take ballroom lessons back in his teen years after he'd broken a lamp when he tried to imitate one of Fred Astaire's moves. He was grateful that she preferred the slow dances and was extra glad that he'd wrapped up his bum foot before getting ready.

The rest of the night was a mix of eating, talking and dancing. She had wine, but Murdock stuck to tea and water, knowing that he needed to take his pain medication when he got back to Illya's place. His foot was throbbing, but he figured he could kept it elevated all the next day to make up for using it too much.

After they shared a dessert that Aunt Amy had insisted he had to try, she gave a contented sigh.

"I've had a marvelous evening. Thank you for everything."

Taking the hint, Murdock rose and offered her a hand up.

"I'm the one that should be thanking you. That was my first time going to the Met and I've always wanted to see the Rainbow Room."

Taking his arm, they made their way to the elevator.

"Perhaps we can get together again while you're still in town."

"I'd like that, but I'd better escort you home before one of us turns into a pumpkin."

David fully approved of Murdock's request to stop at Aunt Amy's building first so that he could see her to her door. He assured both of them that dropping Murdock off second was no trouble whatsoever.

Secretly, Murdock was looking very forward to getting back to Illya's apartment, taking his pills, propping up his foot and sleeping until noon. Unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards for his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize until I had already started this storyline that it was September of 1974, not 1973, when Maralin Niska performed Tosca at the Met. Indulge me that, in this world, she performed a year earlier please? (if it helps, I got the year right for the Kentucky performance). If you like listening to a great soprano, look her up on YouTube.


	8. Ambush

Waiting in the car for Murdock to return from escorting Aunt Amy to her apartment, David winced and rubbed at the scarring over his lower right ribs. A former Section Two agent, he'd been forced to leave the field early when a T.H.R.U.S.H. bullet caused him to lose part of his lung. He recovered as well as could be hoped and could function well enough for most things, but he couldn't meet the standards for the field any longer.

Even though it was offered, David felt he was too young to even consider retirement. Napoleon viewed his spotless driving record and offered an alternative. He now ferried agents to and from the airport as well as drawing the odd jobs - with Mister Waverly's blessing - such as driving Aunt Amy and, on rarer occasions, Mister Waverly's wife. The agents could chat with him freely as he maintained his Section Two clearances and still carried both his Walter P38 and his communicator pen. Mister Waverly was not only pleased with the added security for agents and innocents needing transportation, but it turned out that David was both more reliable and more cost efficient than the previous standard of using cabs.

When Murdock climbed back into the car, he sighed in relief, glad to be off his foot. David turned in his seat as he gave a concerned look at his passenger.

"Are you alright, Mister Murdock?"

Murdock gave a tired grin.

"Yeah, just stupid. I spend too long on my bum foot and it's letting me know all about it. Don't think it's been this mad at me since I had to hump two miles during a monsoon."

David's glance back this time was via the rear view mirror.

"You were in 'Nam?"

"All to true. You?"

"Same. Only I did my tour in the early years. Before it got so unpopular with the civilians."

"Yeah - it was never popular with us. So, I'm guessing you were out of there before '64?"

"Actually, I was out of there in '62. I was near the end of my enlistment and didn't re-up."

Murdock considered David and the trust Napoleon put in him. To test out the theory, he used the code that April had taught him.

"So, I have an Uncle Alexander here in New York that runs a small shop. You have any relatives local?"

A faint smile formed on David's face. He'd suspected Murdock was an ally, but didn't know what level.

"I suspect we have the same uncle."

Murdock visibly relaxed and grinned brighter.

"I thought as much. I couldn't imagine Napoleon would trust just anybody with his aunt. Mind if I ask if David is your first name or last name?"

Chuckling, David pulled smoothly out into traffic.

"Last name. Lee David. You have no idea how often people will turn that around."

"My name's a bit unusual as well, so I can imagine."

The rest of the drive was filled with figuring out places they'd both known overseas and, in general, shooting the breeze. When David pulled up to the apartment building, Murdock leaned forward and shook his hand.

"Been a pleasure talking with you, muchacho. If you ever feel like hanging out when you're off-duty? You know where I'm at."

"It's been nice talking with you as well and I just might take you up on that one night."

Murdock climbed out of the car and wasn't even halfway across the sidewalk when he was attacked. David saw what was happening, but a bullet hitting the back windshield had him pulling away quickly. As soon as he was out of range, he pulled his communicator out.

"Open Channel D - emergency access. This is Agent David - there has been an attack on an allied civilian outside of Solo and Kuryakin's base. Immediate assistance required - I've had shots fired at me and at least one hit the car."

David's heart went into his throat when he immediately recognized the gravelly voice responding.

"Waverly here. I have a team headed your way. Are you currently out of gun range?"

"Yes, Mister Waverly. I moved the car before contacting Headquarters."

"Good man. Some clarification please, Mister David. Which allied civilian has been attacked?"

"Mister Murdock, sir. The one authorized to stay in Mister Kuryakin's apartment."

No-one listening to Mister Waverly's calm tones as he gathered information from Agent David would have ever guessed the flurry of activity he had in motion through hand gestures and notes.

"Have you sustained any injuries yourself?"

"I - there's a car approaching me rapidly from behind -"

The sound coming over the speaker sounded like fireworks, but soon there was no sound but static. Those close enough to have heard froze momentarily before springing back into action.

"Miss Cutler - leave the channel for Agent David open in case he is able to respond. Mister Franklin - Agent Davis was chauffeuring two civilians tonight. He only mentioned one by name, but I want a discrete check made on Amy Solo. Contact either Miss Dancer or Mister Slate. They should be able to do so without arousing her concern."

Several tense minutes passed before a signal came.

"Open Channel C - Agent Lawson for Mister Waverly."

"Waverly here, Mister Lawson. Report."

"We found signs of a fight outside of Mister Solo's building, but no one remaining in the area. As it appears some of the neighbors called the police, we left the area and went looking for Agent David. We found his car riddled with multiple bullet holes, but the interior armor plating kept the worst of it off of Agent David though he was wounded and is currently in route back to Medical. Also, Agent Matthews spotted a shell casing. It's the caliber that T.H.R.U.S.H. has shown a preference for arming their agents with."

Another signal from Mister Waverly had another agent nodding and rushing out to inform Medical to be prepared for Agent David's arrival.

"Was there any sign of anyone else in the car?"

"No, Mister Waverly. Only Agent Davis."

"Arrange to have the car towed to our garage then return to Headquarters. I will contact our liaison with the local authorities and get what information they have."

"Yes, Sir. Lawson out."

Mister Waverly gave orders for the recordings from the security cameras he had around that apartment building to be brought in and analyzed at once. Then he sent the other agents away as he loaded his old briar pipe with his favorite mix, musing for just a moment on how long he'd had the pipe. Hard to believe, but sixty years as of his last birthday. Like himself, showing a bit of wear, but still perfectly serviceable.

Shaking his head at how his thoughts had wandered, Mister Waverly took the time to get the pipe tobacco properly tamped and lit. No body, so that made it quite probable that Mister Murdock had been taken for some purpose rather than killed. What that purpose could possibly be? That was the mystery.


	9. In Enemy Hands

Murdock came to slowly and painfully. Wherever he was, it was dark and chilly. Stifling a groan, he began a slow and methodical self-assessment, much as he used to do after the interrogation sessions during his POW days. Several minutes later, he concluded that he was sore, bruised and in need of a bathroom, but nothing broken and no signs of concussion or internal bleeding.

Light suddenly streaming into the room made him wince and kept him from getting a good look at the people entering the room he was in, but he soon learned why he had been grabbed when the lead man started yelling.

"You incompetent idiots! Who is this? You told me you had captured Kuryakin!"

One man unwisely spoke up.

"This isn't Kuryakin?"

The blow from the lead man sent that man sprawling across the room to land near Murdock.

"No, this is not Kuryakin! This man is a good six inches taller and, I would estimate, at least ten years younger!"

"But - but, he came from the building. And he speaks Russian."

The man was saved from another blow when Murdock drew everyone's attention by beginning to laugh loudly.

"You folks really don't know that Russian is one of the most spoken languages in the world? Just going with natives, that's over 130 million people."

Glowering, the lead man approached Murdock.

"So, what were you doing in that neighborhood?"

Brain in high gear, Murdock quickly threw together a not-quite-lie, not-quite-truth.

"A guy my twin sister goes out with agreed to let me stay at his place while I'm in town and he lives in that building. My sis doesn't have the room at her place to put me up."

"And why do you speak Russian?"

"For the same reason, I speak Japanese, French, Vietnamese and a couple of other languages. I used to translate for my military team."

Which was true enough. He had translated what was being said in other languages for Hannibal on any number of occasions.

"You know Kuryakin?"

"Well, I know of him. He lives in that same building. Nice guy. Keeps to himself mostly, but when he found out I could read Russian, he loaned me his copy of one of his books by Vladimir Nabokov. Great read, by the way, if you get bored with the kidnapping folks of the street shtick."

Narrowing his eyes, the lead man considered Murdock for a few long moments, then turned to his other men.

"We might be able to salvage your idiocy. Kuryakin and Solo are both known to be foolishly protective of civilians. Take this man downstairs. We will take a few pictures for bait and see what we can catch with them."

Murdock didn't care for the sound of that, but he wasn't exactly in a position to do much about it as two men hauled him up and he couldn't hold back the pained sound he made. The rest of him might have been basically alright, but his bad foot had taken a turn for the worse and putting even slight weight on it was no longer an option.

Holding up his hand, the lead man stopped his men from going any further. Pointing to the man he had struck, he spoke sharply.

"Remove his shoes and socks at once."

The man obviously was not happy about the order, but too intelligent to say so. Even though he was expecting the pain this time, Murdock still wasn't able to hold in the hiss as his sock was roughly yanked off his swollen foot. The lead man leaned in slightly, looking over the now tight ACE bandage that Murdock had wrapped around it earlier for extra support. Satisfied that Murdock wasn't faking an injury to gain an advantage, he signaled for the men to continue.

"Since he can't walk, drag him."

* * *

April and Mark had returned for their check on Aunt Amy. The doorman knew recognized them from previous visits, so when they said that she had promised to call them when she got home and they were worried that she hadn't. he believed them.

"Mrs. Solo came home with her usual driver in the early hours. A young gentleman was with her and he escorted her to her door before he got back in the car and was driven off. My guess would be that she came back later than she'd anticipated and she'll probably call you at breakfast."

April thanked him warmly.

"You don't know how relieved that makes me. You must think we're terribly silly to fuss so over such a little thing as a missed phone call."

"Not at all, ma'am. If you don't mind my saying so, Mrs. Solo is a favorite of everyone here. I'm happy to see that she has so many people looking out for her welfare. Not all of our Senior residents are so lucky."

Mark shook the doorman's hand.

"Well, now that we know she got home alright, we'll head home and try to grab a nap before she calls us in the morning and fills us in on who was her favorite singer at the opera."

The doorman chuckled at that.

"She was very enthusiastic on the way by, so doubtless you'll hear all about it. Good night, sir - ma'am."

As Mark drove off, April made use of her communicator.

"Open channel D. Agent Dancer for Mister Waverly."

The answer was quick enough that Mister Waverly had to have been waiting in anticipation of the call.

"Waverly here. Report, Miss Dancer."

"We've spoken to the doorman. Napoleon's Aunt Amy was escorted to her door - by Mister Murdock from the sounds of it. She is safe."

"Excellent. I want for you and Mister Slate to report back to Headquarters immediately. We have security tapes to examine."

"Yes, Mister Waverly. We're on our way, sir. Dancer out."

Mark glanced to his partner and saw she was wearing a concerned frown that he was certain was matched by his own expression.

"A health check on Aunt Amy and a call in to view security tapes at this hour? Darling, I have an awful feeling that something has happened to Howler."

As he pulled to a stop at a red light, Mark reached over with his right hand and gave April's arm a comforting squeeze.

"You may be right, but whatever it is, the Old Man seems to already be on top of it."

Nodding, April remained silent, hoping this might be as simple as Howler getting arrested for disturbing the peace for singing at aria on the sidewalk at 2 am. She feared it wouldn't be that innocent, but she took comfort in Mark's words. After all, Mister Waverly had more connections and influence that the majority of world leaders. Whatever had happened, together they would handle it.


	10. Escape?

It wasn't long after they arrived at Headquarters that the worst fears of April and Mark were confirmed. Murdock was missing and, from all indication, in T.H.R.U.S.H.'s clutches. Grimly, they sat down to the task of reviewing the footage, both pleased that Mister Waverly had not only requested the most recent recordings, but recordings that started the day Murdock arrived in New York.

* * *

In the basement area where he had been dragged to, beaten and dropped in a cell that was basically a cage, Murdock reviewed his limited options. He had the advantage that they didn't know who he was. Sure, he'd mentioned military, but from what he'd said, they would most likely think of him as a simple interpreter - not as a member of a special forces team. Sure, his foot was not good, but he'd been hurt far worse and had to improvise an exit. He would need to act harmless and wait for an opening. Until that opening came, he'd need to conserve his energy.

Forcing himself to find a semi-comfortable position, Murdock mentally berated himself for having gone soft. Back in the days when he'd been a POW, this cell would have seemed like first-class accommodations. And the beating the men had given him wasn't anywhere near as bad as the ones that once were weekly, if not daily, occurrences. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself into the necessary state of mind and napped.

How much time was passing? The captain would have had a hard time telling. If they offered food or water, he took it without comment or complaint. He handled any violence in the same fashion - completely passive. At one point, someone took a few Polaroids and, after that, he was left alone again.

Sleeping deeply in enemy territory was not something Murdock did. He slept lightly and so he woke fully when the soft sounds of distress reached him.

The source wasn't hard to find - it was the same woman that had come to him on the sidewalk, speaking in Russian. Everything clicked for him then. She was one of them and they had sent her out to verify that he was Russian. Which, of course, he wasn't, but that was a different matter.

While he pretended to be taking longer to wake up, Murdock decided his best option was going to be to go along with whatever the woman was suggesting - at least for now. No matter how she looked, she was one of them. Still, he scooted to the corner of the cage nearest her and spoke kindly to her, then listened as she introduced herself as Alyona and poured out her story to him in Russian about being brought over and now doing a few favors for the men who had paved the way for her to come to America. She hadn't known what kind of men they were and how she hadn't known what they intended to do to him once they knew he was Russian.

Murdock reached through the bars and patted her arm, his voice remaining sympathetic.

"Hey, you're lucky they aren't punishing you for pointing out the wrong guy, little lady. Don't be in a tizzy about me. Heck, I got more bruises for letting Billy sleep in the back of my buddy's van once."

That seemed to throw her for a moment, but then she began speaking about helping him escape. Much as that sounded great, he made sure to warn her about the possible dangers for herself, though he also listed what he'd need before a attempt could even be considered. Alyona understood the request for clothing, a knife and a gun, but the request for a blanket was another source of confusion.

After she whispered that she'd see what she could do, Murdock watched her leave and resolved to get a bit more rest. Oddly enough, her failing to get everything would be more likely to mean this was a scheme. If she came back with an apology and only an item or two, she was probably genuine. Much as Murdock hated to be cynical, right now he was on his own and couldn't count on anyone else to be the suspicious one this time,. That made him grin. He could be good at multi-tasking when he had to, he simply didn't see the need to bother most of the time. The other three guys were big enough Negative Nellies for a whole platoon.

When the woman came back in less than an hour with everything plus a way to open the cage? Yeah, he was in the middle of a snow job without any snow boots handy.

* * *

The subchief of the satrip watched over a closed circuit monitor as the man quickly dressed in the provided clothes and followed behind the woman. Once they exited the building, he made the call to his chief.

"The plan is working. The man believed her and has taken her with him. He will lead her - and us - to U.N.C.L.E. and Kuryakin."

Or, at least, that was the T.H.R.U.S.H. plan. Had they known that they were dealing with Howlin' Mad Murdock of the A-Team, they might not have made so many assumptions as to how he would react.

Face had always claimed that Murdock had a sixth sense about when he was being followed (B.A. always countered that statement by saying Murdock didn't have any sense at all, sixth or otherwise). While that instinct had caused more than a few wild maneuvers in the air, it couldn't be denied that Murdock returned with his plane or helicopter basically intact from many missions where other pilots hadn't been so fortunate.

With every instinct screaming at him that part of this scheme involved them being traced, Murdock followed one of the first rules of war - don't lead the enemy back to your company - or, in this case, his friends. His foot was still killing him, but Murdock had relatively serviceable clothing, a blanket, a knife, and a gun. Only 5 bullets, so the gun would need to be used sparingly, if at all. Guns had the unfortunate habit of making noise and noise was one thing he was trying to avoid.

Once outside, Alyona followed Murdock's lead, but puzzled as to why he was heading them into a wilder area and away from the roads. Finally she questioned him about where they were going, waiting while he glanced around warily before he answered.

"You said it yourself, little lady - you didn't know the type of folks you'd fallen In with. Well, let me tell you, I've run into my share of those types and one thing I can guarantee? They aren't going to be happy with you when they find me gone. So, our priority is keeping you out of their hands. That means we avoid the roads or anywhere else that they might logically assume we might head to."

A dazzling grin broke out on his face.

"Fortunately for us, illogical thinking comes naturally to me."

Seeing her superiors' plans spinning down a drain, Alyona stuttered a bit.

"But - but - we must find a doctor. For your foot."

That concern was shrugged off.

"I've been on the run in worse shape than this many a time, little lady. I'm sorry you'll have to rough it for a bit, but, trust me, this won't be as bad as them catching us would be."

Uncommon guilt was starting to form in Alyona's head when the man she was attempting to trick was continuing to show more concern for her and her wellbeing than for his own.

 


	11. Contemplation and Camouflage

Mark decided he would start at the oldest footage and work his way forward while April studied the footage of the attack.

He stopped when Murdock appeared in the shot, going slowly forward and zooming in at the approach of a young woman. Wishing there was sound, he watched that section then watched it a second time before calling April over.

"My lip-reading skills must be rustier than I thought. I can't make out a word either of them are saying."

"Let me have a go at it, darling."

As Mark had done, April watched the sequence all the way through, then restarted it again.

"I see your trouble, Mark luv. They aren't speaking English. Were I to hazard a guess? I'd say they're speaking Russian, but I don't know the language well enough to be positive."

Pursing her lips in thought, April rolled a pencil between her fingers.

"Someone spotted Illya in the vicinity at an earlier time, sent some agents back to verify. Illya's known for having donned some fairly elaborate disguises . . . the height difference couldn't be attributed to makeup though."

"Not entire true, April. You can fake a few inches with the right shoes - Illya said he wore shoes once that added about five inches to his overall height and that's only an inch off HM's height. Which is close enough that most folks wouldn't be able to tell the difference unless they were side by side." So, how bad was the attack?"

"Very. Howler couldn't even defend himself. Four against one? The only time someone unarmed beats those odds is in a TV show or a movie. How long before Napoleon and Illya come home?"

"Mister Waverly said they were able to get things settled quicker than expected and should be back tomorrow night. He also made the call not to tell them what's going on. Nothing they could do until they return, so why spoil whatever sleep they might be able to grab between now and then?"

"Goodness - look at the time. We worked right through lunch. I don't know about you, darling, but I need a sandwich and at least two cups of coffee before going over the rest of this footage. Let's give our eyes and backs a break and walk to see what might be left in the cafeteria."

Mark agreed wholeheartedly. One thing they both knew from past experience was that a few minutes away periodically from any sort of intense studying to clear the brain was far more likely to bring positive results. The walk also gave them time to process what they had already viewed.

"This whole setup doesn't sound like a move T.H.R.U.S.H. Central would make, April. I'm wondering if we have a rogue agent or satrip involved."

Both agents jumped when a voice spoke up directly behind them.

"Those are my thoughts as well, Mister Slate. Would you and Miss Dancer accompany me to my office? Miss Eklund is arranging some light refreshments for us all."

"Gladly. She's one of the few folks in this building that knows how to brew a proper cup of tea."

"Learned from her mother who was once part of the support staff for the British Olympic team. In fact, her father was an assistant coach for the Swedish Olympic team - the two of them met in the Olympic village and the rest, as they say, is history."

April entered the office as Mister Waverly held the door for her.

"That's a lovely story. It seems I've met several in our organization that have Olympic ties - even Illya does. That seems a bit odd."

"Not really, Miss Dancer. Keep in mind that even though the athletes are there to represent their nations, for many of them, those sporting events are their first real opportunity to view people from other countries as individuals rather than as a faceless mass. Seeing other nationalities face to face is the first step to humanizing them. Viewing a man as a talented opponent instead of the enemy for the first time can be a life altering experience."

"I'd never thought of it in those terms, sir."

"You, Miss Dancer, were born in a country that is of a size that is, frankly, incomprehensible to most who were born overseas. For example, were you aware that you could fit approximately three countries the size of the United Kingdom in the state of Texas alone? One state out of fifty and it is larger than most countries."

The three settled down at the conference table in Mister Waverly's office, April deciding to join the men in taking tea with her food. A member of their intelligence section rapped on the door, then came in long enough to drop a file off to Mister Waverly, which he accepted before dismissing her. Flipping through the pages as he sipped his first cup of tea, a bemused look came across Mister Waverly's features.

"This Mister Murdock of yours. He can be a bit unpredictable, I take it?"

April and Mark exchanged a quick look before April answered.

"Unpredictable is . . well, almost too tame a word for him, sir."

"Our people have picked up some chatter from one of the local satrips. See what you make of it."

Mark took the offered folder and April shamelessly leaned over and read along with him. Mouth opening, she reread a section, then looked up at Mister Waverly.

"They deliberately let him escape and then lost him?"

"Along with one of their young agents. The two of you have the most experience with Mister Murdock - have you any idea what he might be doing?"

Mark closed the folder and shook his head.

"HM was a prisoner of war. He has been known to have flashbacks. If their treatment of him has triggered one of those, there's no telling what he might do next. If he's in the present, he'll look for a way to let us know where he's at. If he's thinking he's in an enemy country? T.H.R.U.S.H. won't be the only ones having trouble finding him."

* * *

While that meeting was going on, Murdock was putting the finishing touches on a shelter that, even when only a few feet away, blended into the surrounding area so well as to be near impossible to spot even if looking for it. Alyona was, quite frankly, impressed by how much Murdock had been able to accomplish that day with very limited resources. He shrugged it off.

"Grew up on a farm, went to Scouts, had survival training and picked up a lot of other stuff out of pure necessity, little lady. Here, help me crush up some of these leaves and spread them around. The smell of them will help keep bugs from snacking on us while we sleep."

"But, shouldn't we keep moving? They are bound to be looking for us."

"While I have no doubt that's true enough, it's going to be dark pretty soon. Brush is pretty thick and we'd be likely to get tangled or twist an ankle in a hole that we can't see because the moonlight can't get through the canopy real well. Besides, we aren't very near any roads and even if they use a helicopter with a searchlight? Look up. All they're going to see is the tree I built this nest in. They won't see us that way. And if they come in by foot, they'll have to be looking up. I mean, it's weird, but most folks flat out forget to look up, but even if they did, I think I've got us pretty well covered. Now, I wasn't able to gather much in the way of food today, but tomorrow, I'll do better since the shelter's already finished. Eat up."

Noting that Murdock had given her the lion's share of the meager food had Alyona's guilt twinging again. She drew the line when he insisted that she take the blanket.

"Nonsense - the blanket is big enough to share. Besides, it will be warmer for both of us that way."

Murdock didn't argue with her and took the time to combine the leaves he had heaped as a combination of cushion and insulation. As they settled down in that gathering darkness, she felt him pat her shoulder after he spread the blanket over them.

"Get some sleep and try not to worry, little lady. It's me and you against the world - as long as we stick together, we'll do fine."

After the day spent hiking and assisting Murdock, even Alyona's growing disquiet couldn't keep her exhaustion from causing her to fall into one of the deepest sleeps she'd ever known.


	12. Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note/Apology : For anyone that actually speaks Vietnamese, my apologies for quite probably butchering the translations - most especially since my computer doesn't have the capacity to type the correct characters needed in some cases.

Alyona was sleeping deeper than she had possibly ever slept before, so it took her longer to wake up than it usually did. For a few moments, she wasn't sure what had woken her, then she heard the sound of a helicopter close by and could see the spotlight lighting up the night through the chinks in their shelter.

A soft sound nearer to her drew her attention and she turned, barely able to make out the sweat drenched form of Murdock kneeling attentively, gun in his hand and knife beside him. Seeing her move, he spoke to her. At least, she assumed he was speaking to her. She couldn't understand a word he said.

"Im lang."

After a moment, he spoke again in the unknown language and it frightened her.

"Ke thu la gan."

The helicopter began slowly moving away, but Murdock remained at high alert until there hadn't been any sight or sound from it for half an hour. He sighed, putting away the gun and patting the leaves as he gave her a smile.

"Tro lai giac ngu, it mot."

The intent that they should go back to bed was clear, so she gave him a weak smile back and settled down again. She honestly didn't think sleep would come again, but it must have because the next time she opened her eyes, sunlight was peeking through the cracks in their shelter.

* * *

One of the information technicians came to Mark in obvious excitement and, as soon as Mark read the report handed him, he was rejuvenated as well. April was practically bursting to know.

"Well, darling?"

Giving her a smile and a wink, Mark headed them to the nearest area map.

"It could be a red herring, but we may have a lead. We've gotten a report on a pair of search helicopters - one over this sector and one over this one. The story given out was that they were searching for a pair of missing hikers, but I've just had it confirmed that no-one's been reported missing in those woods, hiking or otherwise."

"And you think those birds were looking for Howler."

"I do. Plus, who would you expect to actually be up in the air looking for lost people?"

"The police or possibly the military."

"One spotter managed to get us a registration number. Privately owned helicopter and look at the name on the registration."

"That's the name of a T.H.R.U.S.H. corporation. You're right, they had to be after Howler."

"And now we know where they think he might be. Looking at the area, there's only two or three spots nearby that could be possibly the satrip involved."

"We will be taking it down once we find Howler, won't we?"

She managed not to jump this time when Mister Waverly spoke from behind her again.

"With extreme prejudice, Miss Dancer. I have just been informed that Agent David's lower left arm had to be amputated. If there is any positive to be found, it is that the doctors believe he will be an excellent candidate for a prosthetic device. If he agrees to it, I will authorize him to receive one of the advanced models that are being developed in our labs."

Moving closer to the map, Mister Waverly looked over the areas Mark had pointed out.

"Whatever manpower and equipment you need, I will authorize, Mister Slate. Captain Murdock has been endangered by his association with our organization and through no fault of his own. Find him and bring him straight to Medical. If anyone has a quibble with that, feel free to direct them to my office. Assuming Miss Dancer leaves anything of them behind to send to me."

"Thank you, sir. Come on, April - we have search parties to organize."

* * *

When Murdock woke again, he was speaking English - much to Alyona's relief. Stretching, Murdock winced.

"Man o man, am I stiff this morning. You sleep well, little lady?"

Alyona hesitated, then answered.

"Except when the helicopter was circling over the area."

The surprised look he gave her took away the relief she had felt at hearing English.

"I slept through that? I must have been more tired than I thought. Sorry, I should have been more alert."

Clearing her throat, she decided to broach the subject.

"You were alert. You kept the gun in your hand and the knife by your side until they had been gone for quite awhile. And - and you were saying some things I couldn't understand."

Running a hand through his hair, Murdock was thoughtful before questioning her.

"Do you mean I wasn't making sense or that I was speaking another language?"

"Another language, I think."

He nodded as if that should have been obvious.

"Yeah, most likely I was speaking Vietnamese. I tend to do that sometimes."

The answer wasn't very clear or reassuring.

"Sometimes?"

Again, Murdock treated the topic as if it was the equivalent of asking him why he wore ball caps.

"Every now and again, I forget what country I'm in or what year it is. No biggie. I know a lot of guys that were over there that have the same problem."

He recognized the look on her face when it clicked with her where he was talking about.  Before she said any thing else, he held up a hand and scowled at her.

"Not a single word. You're the right age to have been a protester and, from that expression, I'm betting you were one. Now I fully approve of folks protesting things they think are wrong, but if you were one of the ones that was yelling insults at our boys or throwing garbage at us? You'd best not tell me or I might be inclined to rethink you being a lady."

He paused, then continued.

"Things happen in every war that any side involved should be ashamed of, but the overwhelming majority of those decisions aren't made by the folks that have to bleed for them. Nearly all of folks sent over there were doing the best that they could to follow their orders and stay alive long enough to make it home. The soldiers on their side were the mostly the same sorts, only they had the added dig of it being their home ground that was being blown up and bled on."

She remained looking sulky, but didn't respond back verbally. The look was enough to set him off again though.

"And, might I add, considering the organization that you've thrown your lot in with, you are a classic case of a raven calling a crow black. I've fought against some nasty types before, but those guys are among the worst."

That made her break her silence.

"How would you know? You are not Kuryakin."

He laughed at her - not in a humorous fashion.

"You think U.N.C.L.E. folks are the only ones they bother? They kidnapped my best friend - also not related to U.N.C.L.E. - and then left him to die in a building they sat on fire. As for me, I was injured and unarmed and one of them tried to shoot me in the head. Only reason she didn't was that she'd already used up all the bullets in her gun."

"She?"

"You think you're the first woman they've used? Old Hannah was a piece of work. To my personal knowledge, she was not only into kidnapping, but also torture, slave trafficking, thief, smuggling and espionage. Is that what your future goals are? To be like her?"

Despite herself, Alyona frowned. He sounded so sure of his facts - which were not in line with her own thoughts about T.H.R.U.S.H. She went back to one of the things he said to find out more about it.

"Why did they kidnap your friend?"

That got a rueful chuckle.

"Same reason they kidnapped me. Mistaken identity - wrong place, wrong time."

She was thinking hard enough that Murdock could practically see the gears spinning. He tossed his own question back at her.

"So - why did you join up?"

She straightened her back.

"They want to achieve world peace."

He gave that laugh again.

"I suppose they do, in a manner of speaking. Depends on if your view of world peace entails living under someone else's thumb or not. Me? I prefer a world where, sure, conflicts might break out, but individualism is still allowed. Countries still have their own identities and languages. Some people like marching band - everyone in straight line, matching costumes, playing the same tune. Me? I like marching band okay, but I'm more of a fan of jazz and rock."

Murdock sighed as he gently probed his injured foot and tried to wrap it so that he could manage to walk on it better.

"I'm going to see if I can find us some food. Why don't you give some thought about what the world T.H.R.U.S.H. is trying to bring about would actually look like and be like to live in? I don't think that, if you're honest with yourself, you'll be all that enamored with living in the end results."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> "Im lang." - Stay quiet.
> 
> "Ke thu la gan." - The enemy is near.
> 
> "Tro lai giac ngu, it mot." - Go back to sleep, little one.


	13. Coming Clean

Alyona did as Murdock had suggested - she thought about the organization she'd been recruited to. It couldn't be denied that the picture that had been painted for her by the campus recruiters were a far cry from what she had personally observed. Perhaps in her haste to start fixing the world's problems, she had fixated on the goal of a unified world without giving enough consideration to what they planned for a unified world to look like. She had put up with the crude behaviors of her immediate superiors assuming that they were near the bottom because of their attitudes. But - what if Murdock was right? What if the head of T.H.R.U.S.H. were just as bad or worse?

The thought of that made her shudder. Then she turned her thoughts to what little she knew of U.N.C.L.E., which, granted, wasn't much. But it was enough to know that two known political foes, the US and Russia, were working together against T.H.R.U.S.H. What was that quote she had learned in her history class that FDR said? Oh yes - "I ask that you judge me by my enemies."

Judging T.H.R.U.S.H. by their enemies wasn't painting a very good picture considering how diverse the ideals were of just two countries opposed to them. Sighing, she started straightening out their hideaway. It seemed that she hadn't lied to Mister Murdock after all. She really hadn't known what kind of men she was getting involved with.

When Murdock returned with enough food - bland, but filling - for both of them, she apologized and told him that she had been picked to encourage him to escape to hopefully lead them to an U.N.C.L.E. location that could be attacked. He listened to everything she had to say, then startled her by reaching over and patting her hand.

"Aw heck, I knew that, little lady, so don't think you were leading me astray. I may not have all the marbles I used to have in my marble bag, but I wasn't born yesterday. Now - here's the important thing. You want to stay on the side that you're on? Before you answer that, leaving them don't mean joining the other side. You can get out of the game altogether."

She had a piece of fruit he'd returned with in her hands and toyed with it.

"I don't know if I can. After thinking about what you've said, I think getting in was easier than getting out will be."

"Ah - 'Easy in but not easily out, as the lobster said in the lobster pot.' I think that was from one of the Chronicles of Narnia books. Will it be simple? Probably not, but if that's what you want and you're willing to do what's necessary? It's possible. Now, eat up. If we end up needing to move quickly, you'll need the energy."

Taking a bite out of the apple, she chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed before asking the question that was bothering her.

"If you knew that I was trying to trick you, why were you so nice to me?"

Shrugging, Murdock polished his own apple on his shirt.

"Ulterior motives or not, you helped me get out of there. Didn't see any reason to be rude to you, little lady."

She stared at him for a minute.

"Are you for real?"

That earned her a huge grin.

"I have been compared to a figment of some folk's imagination, but keep in mind that if I am, that would make you crazier than me. And that takes some doing, let me tell you."

* * *

On further thought, Mister Waverly made the decision to send in an assault team to deal with the satrip when the search teams deployed. The search teams were divided into two groups - one led by April and the other by Mark at Mister Waverly's suggestion.

"While I would prefer having more information before moving against the satrip, an assault now should keep them too preoccupied to interfere with your search for Mister Murdock. Since we have two primary areas to be searched and the two of you are quite likely the only voices that will be able to coax him out of wherever he is hiding, by dividing up, you will increase your odds of success."

At the three hour point of searching the thickly wooded areas, both teams were discouraged. Pulling out his communicator, Mark signaled April on the channel dedicated to the search parties.

"April, it's no good looking for HM like this. There are a thousand and one places he could be hidden."

The return sigh was audible over the connection.

"I'm afraid I have to agree, darling, but we can't simply give up. Howler's hurt and alone."

"Not suggesting we give up, my dear partner. I'm suggesting that instead of looking for him, we have him find us."

"Sounds promising, but how?"

"We have our teams keep on alert for THRUSHies while we call out to him. Mister Waverly had a point. You and I are the ones he'll respond to once he determines it isn't a trap."

"Singing!"

"Pardon?"

"We should sing, darling. Howler was always singing on missions, remember? Besides, voices carry well and it will be easier on our throats than yelling."

"Couldn't hurt, I suppose. I do recall him mourning his Doors shirt. Let's do it."

Mark gave the orders to his search team, getting odd glances from them as he began singing 'Love Her Madly' out loud as he walked deeper into the woods. In the other area, April drew an equal number of stares when she started her rendition of 'People are Strange'.


	14. Who do you trust?

It was beginning to look like there could be some rain coming in, so Murdock was taking some time to add more materials to the upper sections of their camouflaged hideaway so that, hopefully, they could avoid getting soaked. While working, he began humming, then singing without paying much attention to the fact he was doing it.

"Seven horses seem - to - be - on - the - mark."

Alyona paused and frowned as she handed Murdock one of the branches he asked for.

"Do you have a radio playing?"

That had Murdock giving her a puzzled look.

"You know exactly what little I have with me, little lady. Why would you - wait."

Holding up a hand for silence, Murdock went quiet himself and faintly heard the same song he'd been singing coming from deeper in the woods. Looking back to Alyona, he questioned her softly.

"Do you mean you hear the same song that I do?"

"Yes - shouldn't I?"

"Well, normally when I hear music, it's just in my head. But if you hear it too . . .?"

Putting down the branch, Murdock checked to make sure he had the gun, but handed the knife to Alyona.

"You stay here, out of sight. I'm going to go see who the Doors fan is out there."

Alyona nodded and held tightly to the knife as Murdock made his way out. Since he judged the voices were headed his direction, he moved a few yards away before finding a tree to climb to get a better vantage point. The singer was male -not Morrison, by any means, but a good voice. When he caught his first good look, he nearly fell out of the tree in relief. The main trouble was that Mark wasn't alone, leaving the problem as how to contact him without getting shot. Getting shot was one of his least favorite things to do.

He considered sending Billy, but Billy getting caught in friendly fire wasn't an option either. Then a smile formed and Murdock joined in singing on the chorus of the song.

When he heard Murdock's voice coming from not too far away, he activated his communicator.

"April? I hear him, luv. Now I simply need to find him."

"Thank heavens. My team and I will start working our way back put. We'll met you at the rendezvous point."

Signaling to his party to watch the perimeter, Mark stopped singing as he moved closer to where Murdock's voice seemed to be coming from.

"HM? Come out if you can. We need to get out of the area while some of our people have the birdies drawn elsewhere."

A rustle from a bush confirmed Murdock's location, as he emerged and immediately wrapped Mark in a hug as the other agents around tried to maintain their serious demeanor - with varying degrees of success.

"Man o man, is it good to see you, Higgins, but I'm not alone. Got a little gal with me that could use asylum."

Mark hesitated, then pulled back from Murdock to look his friend in the eyes.

"Are you certain of that, HM? From what traffic we were able to pick up, it sounds as if she was intended -"

"To trick me? Not my first rodeo, Higgins. Things went her way a little too well when she helped me escape, but she confessed to me before I called her out on it. And I think she's sincere. Did you know those guys are recruiting at colleges? That's not very nice of them - especially since they don't seem to be very honest about what kind of used car they're actually selling."

With barely a pause for breath, Murdock continued.

"Anyway, I know taking her back around the other folks in your club would be a bad idea until you can check out her story, but can you at least get her into a safe house? If she is sincere, I doubt those guys will take it well when they figure it out."

"That I can promise you. We'll get her somewhere safe. Perhaps she might tell us a bit of how T.H.R.U.S.H. is operating at colleges. Now let's fetch her and get out of here before they come looking for you again."

"Those helicopters were them, weren't they?"

"They were. So, how much further until we get to her?"

"We're there, Higgins."

Mark looked around carefully. Murdock sounded serious, but he sounded serious when he talked about his invisible dog as well. Before he could question it, Murdock called into a thickly vined area.

"Come on out, little lady. Higgins is an old friend of mine."

One of the team literally jumped when Alyona seemingly appeared our of nowhere. Mark had seen where she came from and moved closer, examining the well camouflaged shelter before whistling softly.

"I'm impressed, HM. Old Man Cutter should have you teach a class."

Giving the side a pat, Murdock shrugged.

"It's okay for a rush job, but you should have seen the tree fort I had as a kid, Higgins. Now that was a thing of beauty."

"You can tell me all about it later. If we don't get moving soon, April will have both of our hides for worrying her."

"Well, guess I'll have some apologizing to do. I'm afraid I can't do a quick time march on this foot."

The largest member of the search party moved forward, clearing his throat.

"No insult meant, sir, but I could carry you out of here to speed things along."

Murdock crossed his arms and studied the man for a minute.

"What's your name?"

"Richard Logan."

"Carry how? Fireman, bridal, or piggy back?"

Logan looked puzzled and glanced from Mark to Murdock before venturing a choice.

"Err - piggy back?"

Murdock grinned and clapped his hands together.

"I have never in my life turned down the offer of a piggy back ride. You've got a deal."

The sound of an explosion in the distance had the group hurry their preparations. Mark gestured to Alyona.

"You follow behind Logan and HM - I'll bring up the rear in case we have company."

She hesitated for a minute longer. Alyona still had serious doubts about where she wanted to be, but she was pretty sure now that she didn't want to remain where she'd been. It was time for a leap of faith and her intuition led her to trust Murdock. Decision made, she hurried into position as the group began to move quickly back to the clearing where April and her team would be waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line "Seven horses seem to be on the mark." is from 'Love Her Madly' written by Robbie Krieger and performed by the Doors.


	15. Culture Shock

Alyona was suffering from a bit of culture shock. She knew that the men all knew that she had been working with T.H.R.U.S.H. and that she had actively tried to trick Murdock, whom it was obvious that their group's leader was very fond of. Even so, not a single one of them was rude or condescending to her. Even when they merged with the other search team, led by a woman who embraced Murdock as soon as she saw him, she was still treated politely even when, near the end of their journey, she was asked to wear a blindfold.

What was going on was explained to her so that she needn't guess what was going on when she was examined by equipment to detect any tracers that might have been put on her without her knowledge. She was even requested to submit to a brief physical, but again, the concern seemed to be more for her than about her. When she was finally allowed to remove the blindfold, she found herself not in a cell, but in an apartment that was remarkable only for the lack of windows.

Exhausted in both mind and body, Alyona took a short hot shower then crawled between the clean sheets on the bed, nearly asleep before hitting the pillow.

Come morning, it took her a moment to realize what had woken her. It was the buzzing from an intercom on the bedtable. Looking at the device for a moment, she figured out which button to push and spoke hesitantly.

"Hello?"

"Ah, good morning, Miss Rodnina. My wife and I were hoping the you would be amenable to joining us for breakfast."

She was so startled that her last name was being used that she didn't think to ask who was speaking.

"That would be fine, sir."

"Excellent. There will be someone at your door in ten minutes to escort you or would you prefer a bit longer to get ready?"

"No, sir. Ten minutes is fine. Thank you, sir."

"Very well. We look forward to meeting you in person."

As she brushed out her hair, Alyona thought about the voice. A British accent and she had the impression of an older man as well. There was no real point in wasting her time in speculation though, since she'd be seeing him soon enough.

The knock on her door was punctual and when the door opened, she recognized the one that Murdock called Higgins, but everyone else called either Mark or Agent Slate. She gave a cautious smile before asking.

"I'm sorry, but should I call you Mister Higgins or Mister Slate?"

Mark chuckled as he offered her his arm.

"HM is the only one that calls me Higgins. Slate is fine - or Mark if you prefer, Miss."

In the end, she didn't call him anything, falling silent as she took the offered arm and walked beside him. It seemed they were going to another apartment in the same building and, as the door opened, she heard laughter coming out.

"Right on time, Mister Slate. Please, join us as well . Miss Rodnina, why don't you take a seat by Mister Murdock?"

"Do come and sit by me, Mark. I am in an excellent mood this morning and highly unlikely to bite."

Stammering a bit, Mark tried to keep his composure - something he always had some difficulty with around Mrs. Waverly.

"Thank you, Mister Waverly. It would be a pleasure, ma'am."

Alyona froze at the name. The T.H.R.U.S.H. agents around her had always talked about Mister Waverly like he was a combination of Superman and the Boogieman. Yet, there he was, looking more like a grandfather than a super-spy, chatting with his wife and Murdock about the opera he had been returning from when he had been attacked.

Gradually, she relaxed and found herself being included in the conversation with the talk slowly moving to where she had attended college, how she had liked it, and the studies she was pursuing. Her own father was of the opinion that higher education was wasted on a woman, but everyone at the table dismissed that idea as if it were from the Dark Ages. Mister Waverly indicated his wife and spoke of the number of languages she spoke and added that she was always looking to expand her repertoire. Alyona was impressed when she discovered that everyone at the breakfast table spoke Russian, though in Mark's case, very roughly.

When they had finished eating and were sitting drinking their tea or coffee, the talk shifted to the T.H.R.U.S.H. recruiters that she had met on campus, how they had approached students and such other details as she could recall. She had expected that - what took her by surprise again was when the talk moved on to what she wanted to do in the future. There was never any mention of her having to work for U.N.C.L.E., which she finally asked about.

Mrs. Waverly picked up the pot to refill her tea.

"Don't take this the wrong way, my dear, because it is in no way a slight towards you. Not everyone is cut out for this line of work and I don't believe it's for you. It might simply be because you are still learning who you are for yourself."

Alyona sighed.

"You may be right, ma'am. Things I'd heard - things I thought I knew. I feel a bit dazed, to be honest."

Mister Waverly nodded.

"Perfectly natural. So, tell me, Miss Rodnina, do you have any ties to this area? I will be quite frank with you that it would be far safer for you to relocate elsewhere."

"No, sir. My father and I haven't spoken since I left for college. I had a scholarship, but he wanted me to turn it down and attend the local community college. Take what he called practical courses in secretarial skills."

Mrs. Waverly passed a plate of tea biscuits over as spoke.

"Secretaries are vital to the business world, but that is also a profession that not everyone is cut out for. I have great admiration for those that can manage it, but I know quite well that I haven't the temperament for it myself. Were you, by chance, a liberal arts major?"

Alyona's hand paused over the plate.

"Why yes - how did you guess?"

"You have the inquisitive sort of mind that I equate with that pursuit. Had you completed your degree before leaving?"

Taking one of the lemony biscuits, Alyona shook her head.

"My scholarship covered tuition and lodging, but not textbooks. The first two years, I was able to find enough part time work to buy them, but I wasn't so lucky my third year."

"To what end were you working, my dear?"

"I wanted to be a social worker. I suppose I'll have to rethink that now."

"For now, relax and get your bearings, Miss Rodnina. We'll get back with you a bit later to discuss your options with you regarding relocation. My dear, shall we go?"

It puzzled Alyona when Murdock got up from the table and Mrs. Waverly didn't. Then she found herself staring at the wheelchair Murdock brought from the corner of the room and helped Mrs. Waverly into it, but fortunately managed to avoid making any embarrassing comments as the three left the room before Mark escorted her back to her room.

Mark asked if there was anything she wanted, but really Alyona only wanted time to herself to think. Life was a lot more complicated that folk songs made it sound.

**Author's Note:**

> For you curious types, the Shakespeare quote Murdock used in Chapter One is from 'Henry V', Act IV, Scene iii.


End file.
